


with each passing day (and every stolen moment)

by Hemogobbler



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: (she doesn't eat it), Adora is STACKED, Adora tries make-up, And Bright Moon food, Bachelorette Party, Catra is ridiculously good at yoga, Catra loves her Bright Moon bed, Catra the Voyeur, Comfort, Cuties, Date Night, Day At The Beach, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Kissing, Sleepy Cuddles, Teasing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touching, and Adora, let them eat cake, oiled-up muscles, redeemed!catra, romantic moonlit pegasus-ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-03-26 07:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19001353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hemogobbler/pseuds/Hemogobbler
Summary: Catra and Adora's love blossoms more with every day they spend together.(Smaller prompts, ficlets, and warm medicine for the soul. Suggestions welcome!)





	1. Sleeping In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra wakes up just in time to see Adora looking drop-dead gorgeous.

Catra was beginning to truly love waking up in Bright Moon. 

 

Her and Adora’s bed seemed to be composed of the comfiest fabrics known to Etheria; she had told Catra that it was sewed together by the enchanted threads of a secret order of spider mages, and honestly, she could believe it. Plush silk glided down her arms as she popped her head out of the covers, and she smiled as the warming rays of the noontime sun bled through her window and kissed her awake, subtly suggesting that she probably should be up by now.

 

Adora hadn’t woken her, for once.

 

Maybe all of Catra’s morning grumblings had paid off, but she was already missing being tickled awake by golden strands of hair, and Adora’s bold, all-too-eager-for-8am eyes being the first thing she saw. Not to mention, Castle Bright Moon’s breakfasts were  _divine_. No wonder they won the war, marching into battle on stomachs full of luxurious crepes and the fluffiest scrambled eggs.

 

Catra’s stomach rumbled, which was almost enough to get her to rise, had she not noticed Adora, perched over her makeup dresser, working on her face with a variety of powders and tools Catra didn’t fully understand yet. Adora had started to like experimenting with all the products Glimmer and Bow had suggested for her: they made attending formal affairs and fancy nights out a lot of fun. She called the dresser her ‘battle-station’ and went at applying her face with all the grave determination that it took to prepare for war.

 

Catra watched Adora get frustrated with a line that had smudged over her eyelid, dab it away while muttering to herself and try again. She made the exact same mistake. She groaned and roughly wiped it away while Catra snickered quietly. It wasn’t quiet enough, apparently, Adora’s eyes sharply locked on to her through the reflection of the mirror.

 

“I’d like to see you do better.”

 

Catra wasn’t going to rise to the challenge. Not now, feeling as toasty and light as a freshly baked croissant. Oh god, she was so hungry. 

 

“Don’t need it. I’ve got natural wings, baby,” She said, batting her eyelashes. “Besides, it looks hard.”

 

“I can help you if you want.”

 

“Yeah, no thanks. Precision’s not your thing, Adora. I’m not about to let you operate on me. What’s the occasion, anyway?”

 

Adora turned to face her and Catra was struck by how gorgeous she was. The mirror didn’t do her justice. Softly tinted eyes, luscious red lips, and just a hint of rosiness to her cheeks. She made Catra feel more blessed every day.

 

“C’mon, Catra, turn your brain on. I’m not telling you, you have to remember.”

 

Catra only heard ‘remember’, too caught up in the way Adora’s lips were popping, swaying, forming words. A lot of work had gone into those lips, begging for Catra to ruin it all. Oh, shit, the conversation. What was she remembering?

 

“It’s someones… burf-day?”

 

“Not quite.”

 

“The one with all the flowers and chocolate?” Catra liked that one.

 

“Close!”

 

Adora was so precious and excited and encouraging. Catra regretted being too dumb to know the answer - she wanted Adora to be proud of her. Moreso, anyway. Unfortunately, Catra was two for two.

 

“I give.”

 

“I’m not telling.”

 

“Then I’m going back to sleep.”

 

“No!” Adora went over and sat on the bed. Catra was buzzing, so proud of her bluff, and even happier have Adora near enough to smell her pretty perfume. “Fine. It’s Spinerella and Netossa’s anniversary.” 

 

Catra blinked.

 

“And that is…?”

 

Adora smiled.

 

“A birthday, but for their marriage. You know what marriage is, right?”

 

Catra grew hotter, and not just because Adora was getting closer. She didn’t want to lie to Adora and say no, but she  _really_  didn’t want to talk about how many wedding daydreams she dwelled in on off-days, and how often she had asked Bow to look at photos of his dads in their sharp suit jackets. She had even gone as far as to seek out Queen Angella’s, who looked truly angelic in a heavenly white dress. Call it intel gathering.

 

“Yes,” Catra said simply.

 

“Netossa’s big into musicals so we’re heading there first, and then we’ve got a party here at the castle. I think they might wanna just be with each other after that, so it’s not a long one.”

 

Adora’s hand began touching Catra’s arm, sweeping through her fur and over her markings. Adora’s nails were a beautiful blue, immaculately shaped, and smooth to the touch as she clasped her hand around Catra’s. It gave the feline enough motivation to sit up and wipe the sleep from her eyes.

 

“And we gotta get all dressed up for that?” She asked.

 

“You don’t have to. But you gotta at least shower.”

 

Catra made a disgruntled noise, but she was not against a refreshing shower if she had some company. It was too late for Adora, though, which Catra realized was another perk of their mornings together.

 

“That’s not optional, Cat. Your hair is  _so_ dry,” Adora spread Catra’s unruly mane between her fingers and watched, aghast, as it fell and stuck back together like a web. “…Aaaand, you smell.” Adora stroked the short fuzz at the base of Catra’s floppy ears to mask the insult and drew forth a contented purr.

 

“You love a stinky gremlin,” Catra grinned, fangs too cute to be scary.

 

“I do,” Adora leaned against her, hands cupping her neck, and kissed her. Catra felt Adora’s nose scrunch back in horror, and reluctantly let go of her lips.

 

“Ugh - but that is offensive, Catra. Add brushing your teeth to the list.”

 

“If I do can we kiss some more?” Catra made her eyes big and irresistible.

 

“Obviously,” Adora scratched the back of Catra’s head and watched, smitten, as the cat rubbed her cheek against her forearm.

 

“How about one to get me through the next ten minutes?” 

 

Adora held her breath.

 

Catra made the most of it, pressing a whopper of a smooch to Adora’s mouth. It was heartfelt and warm, and Catra withdrew with an extravagant ‘mwah!’ She planted two more quickfire kisses deep under her neck and high on her cheek before Adora could protest - not that she ever would think of doing so.

 

With any luck, Adora wouldn’t notice the lipstick stains for the rest of the day.


	2. Night Moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra comforts Adora after some rough training.

Catra heard the doors to the dorm open just as sleep threatened to overcome her. The doors slid shut and she heard heavy, irregular footsteps growing closer to the bed. She shuffled over to give Adora space, a newfound excitement perking her back up. The sheet was lifted; Catra felt the bed dip and a warm, worn-out sigh at her neck as Adora lay down behind her.

“Hey, Catra,” Adora mumbled.

“Hey,” Catra whispered. “Took you long enough.”

Adora didn’t respond. Catra wanted to let her sleep, but she hadn’t really seen her since they woke up. Nights held the best moments together, where they could make up for being hardasses on the field by deflating in each others’ arms. Shadow Weaver had been putting Adora, and only Adora, though increasingly diverse, long and nasty simulations in recent weeks. Catra spoke up again.

“What did she have on the menu today?”

There was only the sound of faint snoring from other cadets, which made Catra think Adora had fallen asleep. A severe pause, long and tense enough to make Catra worried, and then hands coiled around her tummy as Adora brought the two of them closer together.

“You,” It came out muffled, the word buried in Catra’s mane. Catra’s ears went flat, but she swallowed and nodded as if she expected nothing less. “She made me fight you.”

“And let me guess,” Catra began, trying to cheer her up. “Even as some shadow poser I was too fast for you. Probably had you wrapped around my finger. Too hot to handle, Adora? Did I win?”

Silence reigned, and Catra felt Adora’s breath quicken on the nape of her neck. Adora’s grip became tight, too tight, and one arm moved from Catra’s tummy up to her shoulder, keeping her secure in a muscular seatbelt.

Adora was trying to protect her, Catra guessed, but she was also crushing the life out of her. Adora pressed her face hard into Catra’s back and drew in a sharp, angry breath. She stayed like that for a time, steadied her breathing, and felt the last of the adrenaline that carried her through her training fade away. Adora released her grip, but Catra kept her retreating hand in place with her own.

“Turn around?” Adora asked.

Catra obliged, and was thankful for her night vision. Adora lit up her world; big and close and beautiful. Her smile was simple and her eyes were half-closed, but enough blue peered through at Catra to make her feel adored. She smiled back and rubbed her nose against Adora’s, who grinned to hold back the high, noisy laugh that swelled up in her.

Catra felt warmer as rough hands moved up her body, over her arms, and touched her face. She held the fingers close and reveled in their loving gentle scratches that caused her chin to lift in delight. It was heavenly, but Catra had a feeling Adora needed that tender treatment more right now.

Wrapping her arms around Adora’s tired head, Catra held her to her chest. Adora melted into the embrace, squeezing Catra’s sides and intertwining their legs. Catra started stroking Adora’s hair and gave her light little kisses on the forehead. Why did her hair always smell so nice? Catra ran a thumb through it, around her ear, and tasted sweat as she kissed her jaw.

“Baby, if you’re trying to get me to purr, I’ve got bad news,” Adora said, nuzzling into Catra’s neck.

“You haven’t even tried,” Catra watched her form rise and fall. Adora was tucking her own kisses into Catra’s neck even as she slowly began to drift asleep. “Just… vibrate a little?”

Adora started moving back and forth slightly and Catra snickered as she was rocked in tandem. Adora gave her best impression of a purr - a throaty hum that made Catra embarrassed to be sharing a bed with her.

“Alright, dummy,” Catra said, smushing her face against Adora’s scalp to make her stop. “Guess not.”

Adora moved her head up to give the feline a goofy smile, who answered with a roll of her eyes.

“Hey - ” Adora said softly, noticing something. “She didn’t get your eyes right.”

She held Catra’s cheeks in reverence and stared deeply into her. It brought out a small, relieved laugh that touched Catra’s heart. Adora told her:

“They were the wrong way around, blue on the left, yellow on the right.”

“What a dork,” Catra smirked, winking with her turquoise eye. “You know, nothing beats the real deal.”

“Absolutely,” Adora murmured, leaning into her Catra - who purred for her.

It soothed Adora as nothing else could, and Catra watched her fall asleep in lovestruck awe. Catra touched Adora’s cheek, kissed the bridge of her nose, and followed her, as she always would, into a warm, cozy reprieve from their harsh world.


	3. Summer Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra and Adora go to the beach and Catra wants way too many ice creams.

When Adora told her that Etherians liked to lounge around in the sand under the hot sun, wearing as little as possible and drinking icy-sweet concoctions out of hollowed out fruit, Catra was pissed it wasn’t the first thing she learned about upon defecting.

But now, she realized, they weren’t even the best parts.

Catra was rubbing lotion on Adora’s back, digging her knuckles in where stress had built up around her broad shoulders and taking the utmost care with the old scars that swept down her back. She glided a thumb over one, with all her apologies and healing well-wishes, and caught Adora half-staring at her from the comfort of the toweled beach chair, looking delicate and concerned.

Catra played it cool, as she so often did, with the help of her sunglasses - though the red marks still tore her up inside. They always would, she imagined, but it was nice to be helping protect them from the sun; it felt like she was making amends. She put an extra dollop of sunscreen on them and smoothed it in a circle. 

“Ah!” Adora winced at the sudden touch of cold and lay her head back down. “Lower.”

Catra began pressing the flesh on the small of her back apart, away from her spine, and Adora mumbled her appreciation. The lotion made her smooth, but Adora was as firm as ever. Catra put some effort in, kneading her harder and forcing her toned body to finally accept relaxation into its life.

“Lower?”

Catra grinned and dug her fingers into the waistline of Adora’s blue bikini bottoms, stroking the indents left behind on her skin and the soft flesh that beckoned Catra further down.

“Can’t get any lower than this, princess. Unless…” Catra’s gaze shot up from Adora’s backside and she surveyed the beach for suggestions of other people getting more frisky than they should. “Can I?!” 

“No,” Adora laughed. “There are other beaches for that kinda stuff.”

“No way?” Catra took off her sunglasses and met Adora’s inviting eyes.

“Way.”

“I love Etheria… and you’re alright, too.”

Adora sat up and met Catra’s sweaty face. The feline crawled on top of Adora and gave her a kiss, while her fingers trailed along the magnificent body glistening with moisture, tickling her neck and at last cradling her chin. 

“Would you…” Catra began in Adora’s favorite silky tone, threatening the front knot that kept her bra together with a tug from her long black nail. Adora’s eyes went wide and her face as red as her sunburnt feet. (She forgot about her feet) 

“What are you - “ Adora spoke in hurried, hushed tones, and with far more excitement than she had expected to break free of her.

“…Get me an ice cream?” Catra finished, smiling at Adora’s sigh of relief. She climbed off her but kept a hand coupled with hers.

“Another one?” 

“Please?” 

Her fangs showed themselves and her eyes, mirroring the sand and water in their colors, were made irresistible. Adora rolled her own pale blue ones and nodded. 

“With everything on it?”

“Thank you.”

Catra let her go, though their hands lingered together for as long as they could. Adora blew her a kiss before beginning her trek, past beachgoers happily frying in the sun and dodging volleyballs shooting overhead.

Catra put her sunglasses back on and let the fun begin anew. She took great pleasure watching Adora’s hips sway with each lumbering step through the sand. She had a sexy, powerful stride and Catra couldn’t tear her eyes away. 

At one point Adora bent over to take off her flip-flops, tired of losing them in the battle against the terrain, and Catra just about lost her mind. Adora went on to conquer a particularly ambitious sand dune with a mighty stomp, and Catra found she longed to take its place. She took a long drink from her coconut.

Adora’s arm shot out and she suddenly clasped her shoulder, rolling her arm and flexing her bicep, stretching her ripped back from side-to-side in a manner that was so distinctly her. Catra took in everything.

Show-off, Catra thought. What, you gonna knock someone out? 

Catra took a sip and nearly spit it out as she realized Adora knew. She was fanning herself full-force with the book Adora hadn’t once opened during this beach day by the time the sun-kissed blonde started making her way back. 

Watching her leave was certainly enjoyable, but seeing her come back? They locked eyes across the distance, and Catra couldn’t believe how lucky she was. 

The lightest breeze framed Adora’s golden hair against the sparkling sea, picturesque. Her face, usually always caught between slightly-nervous and cocky as sin, settled on bright-eyed serenity. And what more need to be said about her abs except that Catra desperately wanted to lick ice cream off them? 

The sunglasses slid off her nose; love and awe could be seen clearly on her face. 

She saw Adora laughing as she struggled to balance the monolithic rainbow tower that was Catra’s ice cream. The sight of her filled Catra with joy, but she wanted to hear her laugh so badly. Catra gestured her to get a move on and she giggled as Adora took careful-but-quick, darting steps between a haze of people and sand-castles.

A volleyball came screaming over the horizon like a meteor, and Catra’s heart sank. Before she could call out to her, Adora whirled around and blasted the threat, one-handed, into a deep, sandy crater. A ‘phew’ parted her lips in slow motion. 

Adora made it home and twirled around to give her girlfriend one last look. She was even prettier when she was proud. Catra stumbled over her words and took her treat graciously.

“You’re so beautiful,” Catra said. 

They shared another kiss, a gentle touch of the cheek, and a taste of heaven covered in sprinkles.

“Did you think I wouldn’t figure out what you were doing by the fourth one?” Adora asked, sitting down next to her.

“I was surprised it took you that long, to be honest,” Catra said, dipping Adora’s nose in white ice cream. “Anyway, it’s your turn to do me.”

She indicated to the sun-lotion and her back with a sly look.

“I don’t think it works on fur,” Adora mused with a smile.

“I don’t care. C’mon, show me what those hands can do.”


	4. Like a Furry Pretzel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora is introduced to yoga by a highly flexible cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to weezelness on tumblr for the prompt - Catra showing off her flexibility!

It isn’t fair how good she is at this. 

 

Like, Adora understands, it makes sense - Catra is the most dexterous person in probably in the whole of Etheria. She’s extremely agile, can flow like water around your attacks, and in the stream of battle, she’s a blur of shapes that don’t become real until her feet are already connecting with your face.

 

But...  _yoga?_ That’s her secret?

 

Adora is surrounded by talented yoga-gicians - like Perfuma, obviously, and Catra, apparently. Bright Moon’s most relaxed citizens watch in wonder as She-Ra struggles with basic postures, muttering about how strong and cool she is under her breath.

 

Catra sits in front of Adora. She can only assume this is a tactical move, because when the feline takes up the ‘plow’ posture; lying on her back, torso up, her legs stretching straight past her head and touching the floor; she gets to watch the gym-hound behind her struggle.

 

Adora loses the careful breath she's holding - that Perfuma insists is so important - when Catra’s tail drops down by her smug face and idly sways from thigh to thigh. She’s far closer than is either safe or fair, and Adora catches that she only pretends to be breathing deeply when Perfuma passes by and praises her form. Mouthing:  _hey, Adora,_ Catra sticks out her tongue.

 

Adora’s view is perfect from her cobra pose, and not in the least bit relaxing. Hands and feet on the floor, arching her back, she holds up her puffed-out chest and glances down at Catra, who looks as inviting as a campfire in the woods. Her core is exposed under her black sports bra, scrunched up, finely toned, fur darkened by sweat. Adora can barely deal with how well Catra’s tight pants are exaggerating her juicy curves and clinging to her buns. Forced to watch them jiggle nonetheless, a bout of dizziness nearly catches up with her.

 

Perfuma says the cobra should suit Adora’s superb upper-body strength, but the princess finds every ounce of it fade at the sight of her girlfriend waggling her waist to a silent, seductive beat. 

 

Adora calls on her reserve of She-Ra strength to keep herself upright and to stop her head from dropping between those fuzzy, lithe legs. They're so well-shaped, and so skillful when they hook themselves through Adora’s arms and bounce on -

 

“Adora,” Perfuma says softly, concerned. “Are you having trouble?”

 

Adora sucks in air like she’s been brought back to life by necromantic sorcery. Turns out she hadn't been breathing. Her head is pulsing, and she can feel the heat blanket her face all over. She falls apart into a resting position at a safe distance from Catra’s sultry zone.

 

“YES!” Adora didn’t mean for it to come out so loud, but she’s gasping.

 

“I really must remind you of the importance of - ”

 

“BREATHING!” Adora's hands slam against her chest. “Yes! In and out.  _Deeply_.”

 

Adora can’t take her eyes off Catra even as Perfuma talks to her, offering gentle encouragement and positive vibes.

 

Catra does her a favor and drops the plow, instead opting for a half-spinal twist that Adora can’t make sense of. It’s like she’s looking at a sexy eldritch goddess who’s tied herself in a knot, her right leg obscenely placed behind her left hip, back twisted to face her, right arm reaching around her back and connecting back to the leg.

 

“Brilliant!” Perfuma exclaims at the sight. “In this pose, Catra is allowing a nourishing fresh blood supply to reach the roots of the spinal nerves and the sympathetic nervous system!”

 

“My thoughts exactly,” Catra says, with an ignorant grin that stirs up jealousy.

 

“You don’t have any weights around here, do you?” Adora asks, looking around Perfuma’s modest classroom. “Y’know I can do dumbbell crunches upside down?”

 

“You’re a dumbbell,” Catra makes Perfuma laugh as Adora sharpens her gaze and furrows her brow.

 

The flower princess picks up on the competitive atmosphere that suddenly takes hold of the two girls, and with the grace of a master teacher, uses it. She clasps her hands together and speaks with the joy of a divine revelation.

 

“How about some two-person poses?”

 

Catra gives an evil smile so intense that Adora could swear it places a curse on her. Adora nods, remaining passably eager for Perfuma’s sake, but longing for a punching bag to hit. It’s frustrating, in more ways than one, how bad she is at this compared to Catra. Could something this provocative really be exercise?

 

Perfuma starts leading them through a range of poses well-suited for the dynamic duo. 

 

For the first, they balance on each other: Adora holding up Catra’s weight with a push-up. Catra does her own, parallel to Adora and holding on to her ankles, with feet pressed into the back of her shoulders. Adora can feel pointy toenails digging into her, while Catra’s fluffy tail wanders over her nose and hugs her neck.

 

“Catra,” Adora’s voice is stern in warning as the clingy appendage threatens her balance with stealthy tickles.

 

“What? You know I’ve got no control over it. Not my fault it likes you.”

 

The next: they start back to back, take a lunge forward each and arch their backs. Blood travels to their heads as they tilt upside down; their arms curl around; they meet each others’ hands and fuse into something entirely new, becoming a beautiful sculpture that makes Perfuma give a happy squeak. 

 

They hold it, which is easy when they have each other to look at. Thanks to her few extra inches, Adora’s ponytail brushes Catra’s nose. Adora feels warm breath puff it away - it lingers in the air and then plops back in Catra’s face. She only smiles and lets Adora carry more of her weight.

 

The last pose makes Adora think there’s something to all this. 

 

They sit facing each other, legs splayed out and feet joined in a wide ‘V’, holding one another’s forearms. They inhale and straighten up their spines. As they exhale, Catra gently tugs Adora, encouraging her to fold forward. It’s utterly soothing, and Adora’s favorite by far, as she’s guided to the long-sought calm of Catra’s lap.

 

When she pulls back and folds the feline towards her, Catra closes her eyes and a low rumble starts to travel through her. She lets it become a full-fledged purr, and Adora can’t help but thumb shapes through the tanned fur she loves so much. Perfuma leaves them be, letting them softly see-saw for as long as they need, until a tender harmony cycles through them like a stream of warmth.

 

Their breathing soon synchronizes, and Catra opens her eyes, not daring to miss one slow blink of pale blue, nor the sight of Adora’s affectionate caresses running down her arms. It’s calm and pure and absolutely perfect.

 

When they come to a stop, it’s in a delicate silence. Their faces a hair away from each other, their legs jumbled in a mess, and their fingers intertwined.

 

“What’s this pose called?” Adora asks in a low, husky tone.

 

“It’s the ‘dumbass-I-love-you-but-shut-up-you’re-ruining-it’ lotus.”

 

Adora laughs and Catra kisses her quiet, sharing the smile with her lips.

 

Perfuma soon returns and asks: “How are you feeling?”

 

Catra cocks her head to the side in a repeat of the question.

 

“Relaxed,” Adora sighs, and Catra squeezes her hands.


	5. Catra's Bachelorette Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wife-to-be Catra discovers her new favorite Etherian tradition.

“It’s not my birthday.” 

 

Catra watches as an impossibly large chocolate cake is wheeled into the hall of Bright Moon Castle, where so many princesses have gathered in celebration that Catra has to question if princess prom has come back around again. Etherians and all their weird traditions -- it was no wonder they got the date wrong.

 

“Nope!” Glimmer says with a disturbing amount of excitement. “It’s your last party as  _ Miss _ Catra. Hence, y’know, the cake and…” 

 

Glimmer holds out her arms to illustrate the lengths princesses are willing to go to for love. 

 

Rainbow streamers hang over the hall’s stain-glass windows, tiny foods litter immaculate tables, music flows from kitchen to war-room, and all of the friends that had helped Catra get this far, save for one, bask in the simplicity of togetherness. They share stories and laugh like it was always meant to be this way. Catra still feels out of place.

 

“You guys really like cake, huh?” Catra drags her nail through pink icing. It’s  _ very  _ sweet. 

 

“Oh, you’re gonna  _ love _ this one,” Bow winks. Hard. Catra looks to Glimmer for understanding; she hides her face and lets herself be distracted by a Sea Hawk shanty.

 

“I don’t get why I’m not allowed to see my wife.” Catra likes saying ‘my wife’  _ a lot _ .  Fiancée  was nice, but  _ wife _ ? Bow likes hearing it too if the hearts in his eyes are anything to go by. 

 

“Aww, you miss her! It’s only for a couple of hours. Just let it remind you how much you love her! I mean, you’ve got your whole lives ahead of you now.” 

 

Catra rubs the back of her neck. It was... different having it acknowledged by others, but she did love Adora. More than anything. Catra smiles. She still wanted to see her.

 

“I wanna see her.”

 

Bow locks onto something behind Catra’s head. He’s really bad at being subtle. Droplets form along his brow and he nods furiously. Catra is suddenly spun around by a pair of big, meaty claws.

 

“WILDCAT!” Scorpia picks her up in a hug, which Catra returns, and it feels even more intense than normal. “Oh my gosh, congratulations! I am  _ so  _ happy for you! Look at you, smiling and laughing and I’m pretty sure you were even DANCING when I came in and--WOW--are you wearing perfume? You smell  _ amazing _ !!”

 

“Thanks, Scorpia.” Catra blushes. Love was so freely given here. Catra tries saying something nice. “Your arms are… big… today.”

 

“YOU NOTICED? Yeah, the gym here has  _ everything _ ! And the weights don’t snap in my claws! Oh, and don’t get me started on the food.  _ The food…! _ ” 

 

Scorpia freezes up like she too had been infected by whatever disease was passing through the party-goers. She looks at those gathered in little circles of hubbub and speaks up.

 

“Uh, speaking of food, I think it’s time we  _ cut the cake _ .” 

 

The virus hits Mermista, who begins ushering Frosta out of the room. 

 

“But I want cake!” Frosta exclaims. 

 

“Believe me, so do I.” Mermista groans. “But this cake isn’t for us.”

 

Nothing more happens. Scorpia’s eyes are panicked as sweat trails down her undercut.

 

“I said...” Scorpia makes a megaphone with her claws. “I THINK IT’S TIME TO CUT THE CAKE!” 

 

Catra hears something very muffled, and suddenly a sword shoots out from inside of the cake. A flash of light catches everyone’s attention, and, a moment later, the cake falls apart. 

 

Out steps She-Ra, dressed to kill. Catra, specifically.

 

Cake covers her body in pink and brown splotches. She wears her usual skirt-shorts, but in place of her top is a golden-white bikini.  _ The bra of protection _ . She flicks her head and icing goes flying as her glorious hair starts flowing out behind her. She walks towards Catra, muscles rippling with every powerful stride, and the hall erupts into an ecstatic cheer.

 

Bow catches Catra in a chair, who looks up at the eight-foot First One, star-struck. She picks her jaw up off the floor and looks around for help, but all she gets are hollers of encouragement and some equally stunned princesses. Perfuma holds onto Scorpia for support, about to faint.

 

A large hand cups Catra’s face and tilts her chin. She’s forced to face She-Ra, whose eyes are a shimmering slate blue. She licks her lips, the room goes silent, and she speaks.

 

“Hey, Catra.” 

 

The crowd whoops and whistles; even the guards posted drop their weapons and start applauding; Catra glows red.

 

“A-Adora, what - you look--uh--I thought I’m not supposed to see you?”

 

“Adora’s not here, kitty-cat. Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.”

 

After one last stroke along her cheek, She-Ra pulls away and Sea Hawk turns the music up a notch, switching to a sexy techno beat that gets everyone dancing. The atmosphere changes from the opulence of a magical castle to that of a seedy dive bar in the Crimson Waste, and Catra couldn't feel more at home.

 

She only has eyes for She-Ra, who rests her hands on her shoulders and sways her hips in a circle. Catra is hypnotized. She-Ra takes Catra’s hands and puts them on her; a thrust comes Catra’s way and she thinks she’s going to explode. She’s so fucking ripped and it’s complete bullshit that there are so many people around to witness this exquisite torture.

 

“Have a taste,” She-Ra says, holding Catra’s head by her stomach, where chocolate-glazed abs await, a debaucherous dessert. 

 

A chant of “do it!” goes up, but Catra doesn’t need encouraging. A long lick travels up the center-line of She-Ra’s tummy, with Catra’s tongue breaking off in various directions to gather sugar and cream, eyes never leaving Adora’s. She-Ra bites her bottom lip, losing composure for long enough to stifle a laugh and tense her belly. Catra considers it a win, and the princesses go wild.

 

The party only amps up from there, with drinks and grinding a-plenty as pounding bass shakes the dust from archaic architecture. Time passes and Catra only finds herself more drawn to She-Ra, especially when she dances with the others. Catra stalks her every move and, at one point, jumps at She-Ra, who instinctively catches her. 

 

Catra purrs affectionately, rubs her face against hers, and loves the grip around her body. It breaks through She-Ra’s defenses; she adopts Adora’s come-hither voice. Low words tempt Catra’s ears as a hand pulls at her tail.

 

“You want me to turn this bra into a whip?” 

 

Catra thinks maybe there’s something to these Etherian traditions after all. She nods meekly and finds herself carried away in big, safe arms. She casts a wink back at her friends and they look at her like she’s the luckiest woman on Etheria. She feels like it. She reaches up to give She-Ra a kiss.

 

“Just don’t tell my wife.”


	6. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra and Adora go on a romantic date in Bright Moon's commercial district. Swift Wind is also there.

Cobblestone lines the streets of Bright Moon’s commercial district, lanterns tempting passers-by into their warm glow, pulling them from the night into the many restaurants and bars that promised good food and good times. 

 

Exotic cuisine she’s never heard of, chalkboards noting “happy hours” that would be more appealing if Adora wasn’t in charge of all their collective money, and a leaderboard of times outside a particularly lively bar for something called a ‘rodeo bull’?

 

Catra studied each and every shop-front like she was scoping out targets for an artillery strike. The walls would never hold up under concentrated fire. She tries to relax but people keep staring at her. Adora’s jacket suddenly settles around her shoulders. 

 

It helps. It smells nice. 

 

“What’re you doing?” Catra asks her; Adora looks flustered.

 

“You looked… cold?” Adora says and then squints like she’s realized how bad she is at this.

 

“I wasn’t.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

“Now I’m too warm.” 

 

“I’ll just take it b - ”

 

“No, no it’s--it’s fine. Thanks.”

 

Adora takes a breath and squeezes her hand. “You okay?” 

 

Catra looks down at their hands and smiles. She squeezes back. 

 

“...Yeah. Never better, actually. But, people are watching us.” 

 

“People are looking at the saviors of Etheria?  _ No way?”  _ Adora is grinning.

 

Catra punches her.

 

“Probably thinkin’ they can’t trust me. Here I am, the  _ evil  _ Lord Catra, seducing ol’ legendary She-Ra, Etheria’s last, best hope for peace, about to give her a hangover that’ll knock all the glory right outta her.”

 

“I promise you they’re not thinking that. And She-Ra doesn’t get hangovers.”

 

Catra groans. “Of course. Princess of Power. Lucky you.” 

 

“Lucky  _ you _ .”

 

Adora takes both her hands, now, and they stop in the middle of the street. Adora faces her, tenderness gracing her pretty blue eyes. She gives Catra a careful kiss, touching her face softly while keeping a hand pressed at her back. People watch Catra go beet-red as they part, smiling.

 

“Lucky me.” Catra catches her breath and savors the feeling of joy making her heart dance.

 

“If you don’t wanna walk, we don’t have to.” Adora offers.

 

“Ooh, moneybags over here gonna spring for a carriage? How romantic.” 

 

“ _ At those prices _ ? Hell no. I’ve got something better.” 

 

Adora clears her throat and looks up to the sky. Catra watches her in confusion. The princess puts her hands around her mouth and shouts:

 

“EQUINE RIGHTS!” 

 

In the distance, trumpets can be heard, sounding a glorious chorus of revolution that reaches every star in the sky. A silhouette of a winged angel appears before the moon, which descends from heaven slowly, gracefully, but perhaps with one too many loop-de-loops, and then Catra realizes it’s just Swift Wind.

 

His hooves clip-clop along the cobblestone in a way that is immensely satisfying as he reaches the duo with a wide horsey smile. He shakes his orange mane out and Catra has to admit it is pretty majestic. 

 

“ADORA! Is it finally time to unite our be-saddled brothers and sisters and cast off the reins of servitude? Horde Prime may be defeated, but I’m afraid the evil of late-stage capitalism is as pervasive as ever here in Bright Moon! Have you seen those poor carriage horses?! Hours spent slaving away for naught but hay!” 

 

He looks at Adora expectedly, with great excitement in his voice. She pokes her fingers together awkwardly and rubs the back of her neck, sucking in air through her teeth.

 

“Uhh… yeah, about that… we kinda... just need a lift…” 

 

A nervous laugh trails away into silence. Swift Wind looks from Adora to Catra and back again. He puts on a smile but the oomph in his voice is clearly diminished as the fires of revolt die back down.

 

“OF COURSE! I would be  _ thrilled _ to use our  _ sacred bond  _ to be your  _ taxi _ for the night.”

 

“Thanks, Swifty. I owe you.” 

 

Adora pats his neck and they climb up on him. Catra’s nails dig into him and she mutters her apologies before retracting them. 

 

“Yes, you do!” 

 

* * *

  
  


“Stop singing.” 

 

Catra deadpans, high in the sky, locking her arms around Adora’s waist for… stability. 

 

“As long as you rate me five stars! Haha! A joke, but the state of wage-slavery in Etheria is no laughing matter! Horses will not eat if they don’t meet the stringent requirements of their so-called ‘masters.’ An outrage!” 

 

The rest of their flight is spent in relative quiet. Catra actually finds it charming. Beautiful, even. 

 

Below, tiny homes and tinier lights twinkle like the stars above. Galaxies shine throughout the cosmos, faint clouds are cut through by dazzling moonlight. Adora’s light hair flows into the night, blowing back into Catra’s face. She doesn’t mind. It smells nice too.

 

Catra notices her shivering and realizes… her jacket! They were so high up and it was already cold out and Adora wanted her to have it! There are goosebumps along her gorgeous arms, the sweet baby. She decides to keep her toasty in its place. 

 

She wraps the jacket around them both, draping her arms over Adora’s shoulders and snuggling into her neck. Adora leans into the touch and is rewarded with a long, loving purr. Fur meets skin, creating genuine warmth and laughter that resounds through the air. 

 

Catra adds her lips to the equation, tickling Adora’s neck with little wet kisses. Adora holds Catra’s head to her, running fingers through wild hair and stroking her freckled cheek on the way back down. Catra thinks they’ve left the atmosphere and stumbled upon heaven, and that no fancy dinner could ever be as sweet as this moment.

 

Adora turns her neck and tenderly touches her forehead to Catra’s. Over the wind, Catra hears her say ‘I love you’, and now, she’s sure, they’ve found paradise. She repeats the words and holds her tight, promising to never let her go.

 

On their descent, they allow Swifty his song, and he makes it count, belting out a love ballad just for them. 

 

“When the moons hit your eye like a sweet oatcake, why, that's amore~!” 

 

* * *

 

When they reach the fancy restaurant, the waitress isn’t thrilled by Catra’s lack of shoes, peering at her bare feet for an uncomfortably long amount of time before allowing them in. 

 

They’re seated by a fish-tank, and when she’s informed that they can eat whatever one they want, she goes ballistic. The servers fail to stop her from reaching in herself, selecting a red fish with a lot of fight and sending water everywhere. 

 

They are now seated by two wet floor signs, but Catra gets to keep her fish because She-Ra. Her fish is served with eel sauce (which is way better than it sounds) and delectable greens, while Adora opts for a chunky t-bone. 

 

Throughout it all, while people might occasionally glance over at the couple devouring their meals in a way that would disgust even Huntara, Catra finds she doesn’t mind it as much. They go back to their dinners, their own laughter, and conversations, and she finds, through mouthfuls of fish, she can go back to hers. 

 

Adora’s even more beautiful when her cheeks are filled with steak… somehow. In the glow of the restaurant’s lighting, Catra finds Adora’s hair poof disheveled from the flight, and tucks in a loose strand for her with gentle fingers.

 

They eat better than they ever have in their lives, and it shows on the bill.

 

“I’ll pay,” Catra says, determined.

 

“You don’t have any money,” Adora counters. 

 

“And whose fault is that? Scorpia told me I should offer to pay.” 

 

“Aw, sweet. It’s okay, pretty sure I get a She-Ra discount.” 

 

The server comes over and Adora asks, flashing the remnants of her sword-bracelet, “She-Ra discount?”

 

The server looks at her long and hard but says nothing. Adora sighs and transforms upon which her head immediately collides with the ceiling, leaving a hole there bigger than the one in their wallets. Catra laughs at the big doof rubbing her head and, now, all eyes are on them. 

 

She-Ra sits back down, embarrassed, and the chair snaps under her. This is Catra’s best day ever. She helps her up off her ass and flicks the after-dinner mint square in her mouth. Catra winks at the server, who sighs a long, long,  _ painfully long _ sigh.

 

“We’ll pay for all this… tomorrow--ADORA, RUN!” 

 

Catra grabs her by the hand and yanks the giant woman out of the half-destroyed restaurant, who screams, over and over through peals of laughter:

 

“EQUINE RIGHTS, EQUINE RIGHTS!”


End file.
